Inside A Frozen Memory Of Us
part four.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show. The title comes from Ours by the Bravery.
Summary: Blair feels good when she's with Carter; she feels right. Like nothing she does is wrong; like she is beautiful, perfect, enough.
When she wakes the next morning, Carter's arm slung tightly around her waist and his face inches from hers, she cannot help but smile.
Blair blinks a few times – just to make sure this is real – to rid herself of tiredness, before leaning over and moving her lips slowly against his pliant ones.
When she pulls away, she watches him shift slightly; his arm pulls her closer before his eyes open halfway.
He groans softly – he always does when he wakes up – and sighs before opening his eyes completely.
"Good morning," she chirps, doesn't know why she's so happy.
You're happy because this boy – this man – makes you happy, she tells herself.
Carter Baizen is not a boy; Blair wonders if he ever really was. He always seemed so mature and grown-up when they were younger. He is not like the boys she gave her heart to and who crushed her beating organ beneath their Italian-leather shoes.
Carter was not afraid to tell her how he felt; he was not afraid to follow his heart and go after her; he was not afraid of the challenge of being Blair Waldorf's boyfriend.
So she smiles at him, at his tired appearance, and pulls herself closer to him.
He voices his appreciation, pulls her closer, and kisses her briefly. "Good morning to you."
"How did you sleep?" He yawns and she stifles a laugh because it's just too cute.
"Excellent… Your sheets feel amazing." He smirks at her, at his own comment.
Blair laughs. "Egyptian cotton, 500 thread count." She is haughty even when she is talking about bed linens.
"Of course. The only way to go." He smiles genuinely, kisses her passionately this time.
Blair suddenly realizes how domestic this feels now that their sleeping in a bed that she actually owns in an apartment that's hers in a city that is her home – their home, really.
"Do you want breakfast?"
"No, I want you." His hands find their way beneath her nightgown, glide along her thighs.
"Carter," she admonishes, bats his hand away.
"What?" He plays the innocent act so well.
"Not now." She is stern, will not give in.
"Why?" But he obviously doesn't care for the reason because his hands are caressing her hips and she's starting to not wonder why too.
"Because…" his lips are too much of a distraction as they move across her jaw, down her neck, along her collarbone. "Because… I…" His hands slide beneath her nightgown, fingers dig into her hips and she lets out a purr of content. She feels the smirk against her neck, but is too far-gone to care. "I don't remember."
She hears his response against her jaw, "That's what I thought."
When they emerge later in the afternoon, escaping the walls and confines of her apartment, they decide to go to lunch.
They sit in their booth at one of her favourite restaurants, where he holds her hand and places his palm on the small of his back. Blair thinks that this is all she ever really wanted: someone who loved her and wasn't afraid to show it.
Blair feels good when she's with Carter; she feels right. Like nothing she does is wrong; like she is beautiful, perfect, enough.
For once in her life, she feels like she is finally enough: enough for Carter, enough for everyone, enough for herself.
When he looks at her, everything she ever hated and loathed in herself ceases to exist.
He smiles at her when they finish eating, kisses her cheek softly before she gets up and heads for the ladies' room to freshen up.
She fixes her hair, reapplies her lipstick, straightens her dress. And for the first time in a long time she does not even consider purging.
She walks out, makes her way to their table feeling the happiest she ever has leaving a restroom.
All is right in her world, in their world.
And then Nate appears.
Blair sees the sandy-blonde hair, the expensive suit, the air of entitlement: she could tell Nate Archibald a mile away.
She returns to the table, smile in place; happy to see him, worried of his intentions.
"Nate," she almost squeals. (She has missed him)
He turns at the sound of her voice, his grave look immediately perking up; his face dimpling in that way she used to adore.
"Blair," he greets her with such enthusiasm that she can't help but hug him; hold him tightly because she hasn't seen him in so long.
She catches Carter's eyes over Nate's shoulder, squeezes him for good measure before pulling away. His hand remains on her arm for a few moments before he slowly removes it.
"You look… amazing." His eyes rake over her body, blue eyes moving up and down quickly; comforting in the way only he could be.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Archibald… What are you doing here?"
"Um, the same thing as you, I presume – lunch." He grins at her with that classic Archibald smile.
Carter chimes in, hands in his pocket, an unimpressed look written across his face. "Yeah, Archibald here just figured he'd stop by to say hello. How thoughtful."
Carter shoots Nate a glare, who only rolls his eyes.
Males, she huffs.
"Carter, why don't you go get the car while Nate and I catch up?"
His eyes widen at her, flash with intensity briefly; but soften at her own look with ease.
"Sure… I'll meet you outside." He kisses her cheek; she ignores the look he sends Nate.
When he is finally out of sight, Nate breaths a loud sigh as if insulted or angered or confused – or maybe all three.
"Blair, what are you doing?" He sounds exasperated, perplexed.
"Nate, don't." She really doesn't want to do this right now.
"Blair, come on. Carter Baizen? He's –"
"What, Nate? A terrible person? Not right for me? Bad news? I've heard it all before."
And not just about Carter.
Nate looks at her; really looks at her. Like he can see the pain in her, the pain Chuck caused her; the pain everyone and even he caused her.
"He's not good enough for you," he finishes, lets out a sigh.
Blair doesn't really know what to say. There's a biting remark on the tip of her tongue, but she just can't.
"For the past few months – the past few years, really – I have felt… I don't even know. But I haven't been happy, Nate. Not really."
His brow furrows with confusion.
"But you and Chuck – "
"Chuck made me feel alive; he made me feel wanted and loved for the first time in my life. But he wasn't enough… Because I wasn't enough for him."
"He loves you."
"That doesn't fix what he did… For so long I pretended that I didn't know. I pretended that everything was fine when it wasn't."
Nate is looking at her, his eyes sympathetic, apologetic.
"I made myself believe that Chuck and I were perfect together – that we were forever – because it hurt too much to imagine my life without him. But now… I feel alive again, Nate, like I haven't in so long. I feel whole, like I've finally figured out who I am. And it feels like I've been looking in the wrong place for it all along."
He appears speechless, maybe confused.
"Well…" he starts, takes a breath. "You look happy."
Blair smiles. "I am… I promise."
"Then I guess I have to be happy for you, even if it's with him."
"He's not that bad, Nate."
He raises his eyebrows, that goofy grin of his starting to appear.
"He's no worse than Chuck," she reasons.
"Okay, fine. I concede. If you're happy, I'm happy. But if it doesn't work out, I'll totally punch his face in."
She laughs loudly imagining the thought; remembers their Cotillion where he punched Carter out because he thought they were dating.
"Okay." They share a smile, and she's happy things are back to normal. They make plans to have drinks later that week; to share stories of their summers and reminisce about the past.
She's happy that she and Nate can still be friends after all that's happened.
In the limo, Carter's hand slides up her thigh as his lips crash against hers.
"Trying to mark your territory, Baizen?"
"I shouldn't need to," he tells her against her ear, bites it gently.
Blair purrs. "You don't need to."
"Really?" He whispers.
She pushes him away, furrows her brow at him. "Of course." He raises his eyebrows at her, questioningly. "Please. I haven't felt that way about Nate in years."
"I wasn't talking about Nate." Carter's eyes are serious, as intense as ever.
Blair sighs. She thought she was insecure. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to be with Chuck."
A thought dawns on her then. Chuck couldn't have told Nate about their meeting last night, could he? Is that what they were talking about before she came back? Nate hadn't alluded to anything, but maybe he's just gotten to be a better liar.
"What did Nate tell you?" Her voice sounds worried, maybe too much.
"Nothing. He said I wasn't good enough for you, how I should leave town; the usual."
Blair breathes a sigh of relief inwardly.
"Why? What could he have said?"
"Nothing." She looks away.
"Blair."
"There's nothing to tell, I swear." She looks at him and he looks back. She tries not to look away again.
"You're lying."
Blair huffs. "I am not."
"Oh, really? So there's nothing going on?"
Blair entwines her hand with his, smiles sincerely. "Of course not." Really.
"I don't believe you." He pulls his hand away from hers.
"Carter."
"Did something happen with Chuck?"
"Of course not. We've been home for two days; I haven't even seen him."
Fuck. This is not going to make anything better.
"You promise?"
"Of course I promise. Carter, that's ridiculous." Keep digging that grave, Waldorf.
Carter smiles back at her, obviously pleased. "Okay." He kisses her palm and leans closer to her, kisses her cheek quickly.
But she feels anxious and sick. This is not good in any way.
Blair can't believe she just lied to him.
A/N: Oh, the drama of Gossip Girl.
What did you all think of this chapter? All of your comments are reviews make me so happy. I'm so glad you're all enjoying this story. :)